


Going Beyond Your Form

by Agent25



Series: One Love for the Heart [8]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:39:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent25/pseuds/Agent25
Summary: “I’m dating a cat,” he whispered with a twinge of hysteria laced through his words as he tried to make sense of all of this. “How is this my life?”“Oh please,” Shuri remarked as she amicably slapped Bucky’s shoulder. “This is hardly the weirdest thing that has ever happened.”“Oh yeah?” Bucky sarcastically countered back as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What's weirder than the King of Wakanda turning into an actual cat?”





	Going Beyond Your Form

The moment T’Challa awakened he knew something was different.

His entire center of being had shifted. The world around him, still seemingly the same, felt entirely alien and divergent as he slowly took it in. Everything from the smell of the air to the way his sheets felt against his body was a new sensation that left his mind tingling with questions.

 _Odd,_ he could not help but think as he stretched out across his bed. It was midmorning and brilliant sunshine was already flowing into his bedchambers, stretching across his bed as the light caressed his body. Without thinking his eyes slipped shut as he enjoyed the immense warmth spreading throughout his body.

_Purr…purr…purr…_

His eyes snapped open at the sound and it immediately disappeared. He raised his head, looking suspiciously throughout his room, but as far as he could tell he was its sole occupant. If that were so, then where had that blasted noise come from? And why had it sounded so close?

Unsettled, he laid back down his head, but as he did so he couldn’t help but catch a flash of black at the end of his bed. He sprung up, staring at the dark appendage that was absentmindedly twitching.

It was a tail. Worse yet, it was a tail attached…to _him._

With a startled cry T’Challa was leaping out of bed, landing on the textured floors. He nearly gave a panicked jump when he realized that his feet had landed…all _four_ of them. Paws, he had paws instead of hands and feet.

_By the Panther!_

He skittered across the floor, movements clumsy as his paws slipped this way and that in his frenzied haste. This new form that he had taken on was unlike his human body and the mechanics of moving proved difficult.

He hurried towards the floor to ceiling mirror situated in his suite. He came sliding to a stop, nearly knocking into the damned thing. With shocked eyes he took in his new appearance.

Fur black as night, vivid green eyes, curved ears and a row of massive teeth lining his jaw.

By Bast, he was a panther!

He opened his mouth and a high-pitched, guttural sound came ripping out of his throat. There was nothing human about it. He clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late. His long, lithe body tensed as a knock sounded at his bedroom doors.

“My King,” Safiri – one of his Dora Milaje – called from the other side of the carved door, “Are you well?”

T’Challa kept his mouth clenched, tail straight up in the air as it waved madly from side to side, giving away his internal turmoil. He prayed fervently to Bast that his dutiful and fierce Dora Milaje would accept his silence and not come charging in, spears drawn.

He would never be able to explain his current… _state._

Fortunately for him, the Goddess was looking down upon her favored disciple. A long moment passed, but the door remained firmly shut and Safiri did not call out to him again. T’Challa’s new body relaxed as he blew out a breath.

Now resigned to the fact that he was not dreaming, but rather awake in a truly strange and bizarre world, the king slowly turned his large head back towards the mirror.

He was still a panther.

But how could this be? When he had fallen asleep the previous night, wrapped tightly around James, he had been a man. Nothing had felt off. He could not remember having any astonishing dreams or visions. He had simply fallen asleep and had awoken like this.

What could have caused this?

As he ruminated over the possibilities he could not help but observe his new body in the mirror with disbelief. He was fully grown, stretching out to eight or nine feet, tail included. His fur was dark and sleek and shimmered with every movement. He opened his mouth experimentally, examining the gleaming white teeth that could cut through flesh and bone if he so willed it.

His green eyes narrowed as he raised his head and noticed the fur around his neck. Instead of remaining as black as the rest of his body, there was an interesting pigmentation of silver fur. It wrapped around his neck, pointing downward jaggedly.

In fact…it looked strikingly like the necklace that activated his suit.

 _Fascinating_ , he mused as he stretched his thick neck this way and that, seeing every available angle to confirm his theory. He raised one of his paws and started when he heard a jingle of beads knocking gently against one another.

Glancing down at his left paw he saw his Kimoyo Beads wrapped around the carpal of his front left paw. He lifted the leg, giving it an exploratory shake. The beads shifted, but did not slip off. T’Challa slowly set the appendage down.

Shaking his head, he turned away from the mirror, padding away. This time, as he focused, he found that he had more control over his body. An instinctual feeling deep within him guiding his every movement. It was an odd but not unpleasant sensation to be on all fours as he felt his weight shift with every step forward, shoulders flexing gracefully.

He sauntered onto his outdoor balcony overseeing the sprawling Royal Gardens. It was beautiful in the sunshine as nature erupted out from all around him. Even as a panther he felt comforted by the recognizable sights and sounds of his home.

His eyes were drawn to the ground below. He needed to get down there. But how?

He glanced back towards his bedroom doors were two Dora Milaje were standing guard outside. There was no fathomable way he could exit through them without causing an unfortunate ruckus. He looked down again as an idea began forming.

Panthers were famed for their skills at leaping…

Backing up, he calculated his next steps. If his tail switched through the air and his body trembled in anticipation, well, he was the only one to know. Sinking low to the floor, he pushed off and landed on the railing. A feeling of animalistic euphoria swept through him at the success of his feat.

With an exalted chirp he vaulted to the ground below him. He landed nimbly on all four feet. He would never admit it, but there was a swagger to his step as he roamed through the palace grounds.

He did not know how much time passed as he ventured through the lush green underbrush of the gardens, exploring with his newly refined senses. Just as he was about to truly think over the problem of his transformation and the consequences of it, his ears perked up at the sound of faint noise in the distance. An achingly familiar scent wafted through his nostrils, causing his nose to twitch as he breathed it in greedily.

James.

Without a second thought T’Challa went bounding through the thicket of plants and trees. He came through the other side, looking around wildly for his partner.

His tail swished eagerly when he saw him.

James was strolling through the foliage, still as human as ever. He was dressed in his navy and brown battle fatigues, showing that he had clearly just returned from patrol with the Hatut Zeraze. His hair, wild as ever, was up in a messy bun atop his head, though several strands had escaped and were framing his angular face. His vibranium arm was on full display, the intricately woven golden lines flickering as the sunlight hit it.

He trusted James with everything in him. James would help him, that T’Challa was sure.

With that thought coursing through him, T’Challa pranced towards the unsuspecting man, barreling headfirst into James’ legs. Not surprisingly, his fellow warrior went into a fighting stance, hand reaching for the knife at his hip.

The hostility immediately disappeared when James looked down and saw the panther weaving through his legs, chirping all the while. James huffed out a breathy laugh as he sheathed his knife and reached down, metal fingers running through the fur on T’Challa’s back.

“Hello there,” he greeted with a warm smile as T’Challa’s head knock purposefully into his hip. James, who had always had a soft spot for animals, kneeled before the cat, rubbing the majestic animal down.

Every instinct in T’Challa turned up to an eleven as his head lulled back at the gentle touch. Worse still he felt a purr rumble throughout his body as James scratched at the perfect spot right behind his ear. Hid body immediately went pliant as James continued petting him.

Gods, this was mortifying. He was the Black Panther, not some kind of domesticated pet!

“Well, aren’t you a handsome fella?” James cooed as he rubbed T’Challa’s cheeks. Snapping out of his daze, T’Challa shook his head, backing up as he opened his mouth and a low growl came rolling out. James blinked, giving the feline space, as he slowly stood.

“Finicky thing, aren’t you?” he said with a wry smile as he stepped back. As he began walking he threw a goodbye over his shoulder, “See you later, black cat.”

T’Challa moaned feebly, dread filling him as he watched his partner walk away without looking back. He sprinted forward, dancing through James’ legs as he tried to halt the man’s progress

 _“Woah!”_ James uttered as he nearly tripped over the squirrely cat winding through his legs. “Where’s the fire?”

T’Challa only meowed loudly as he fought to get James’ attention. The super-soldier sighed as he tried sidestepping the cat only to be blocked by the massive body.

“Look,” he huffed out, frustration etched across his face. “I know you want some attention, but I’m dirty and sweaty and all I really want is a nice, hot shower and maybe a nap with my best guy, you hear?”

T’Challa chirped loudly, jumping up as his front paws landed on James’ shoulders. The man staggered back against the onslaught of weight as he struggled to keep both standing, T’Challa balancing on his back haunches.

“Okay, buddy,” James muttered as he pushed T’Challa back, the panther landing on all four feet. “This was cute in the beginning, but now I’m officially annoyed. Let me go.”

James stalked away, still complaining under his breath. T’Challa, going on instinct alone, let out a sorrowful cry that had James pausing. T’Challa kept his head downturn and tail listless as James glanced back at him. The super-soldier watched him for a long moment, debating with himself, before he blew out a breath and walked back to the cat.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m going soft.” he warned with a finger point as he kneeled down, hand immediately scratching behind T’Challa’s rounded ears. The panther-king found himself once again purring loudly, chest rumbling at the easy affection James was giving him.

The man known as White Wolf only chuckled as he continued stroking the silky fur. As his hands ran down T’Challa’s neck he noticed the strange markings there.

“Huh,” he mulled over as he got a better look, “That’s funny. That kinda looks like T’Challa’s necklace.”

At the mention of his name the panther let out a loud meow as he surged forward, head-butting James. With a _whoosh_ the man toppled backwards onto his butt, landing with a mighty thump.

“Ouch!” James scowled as he tenderly rubbed his rear, sending a glare towards T’Challa. “Think you’re funny, don’t you?”

T’Challa immediately stepped into James’ space, knocking his head against the man’s, doing whatever he could to make him understand that _he_ was T’Challa.

“C’mon, give me some space.” James said as he pushed the big cat’s head back. He looked into the green eyes trying to understand how he had landed himself in this predicament. Honestly, all he wanted was to shower and maybe cuddle with his boyfriend. Was that too much to ask for? When had he all of a sudden become the Cat Whisperer?

“What is up with you, black cat?” he asked the panther, “If I were a superstitious kind of man I would almost think you understood the name T’Challa – “

He was immediately pounced on by the panther, T’Challa rubbing all up against him as his tail swished back and forth madly. James’ eyes narrowed as he looked from the appendage back to the panther’s knowing eyes. Now that he thought about it, they seemed far more observant than a normal panther.

“…T’Challa.” he said slowly and watched as the panther seemingly nodded his head towards the super-soldier. James’ jaw dropped before he shook his head.

“This is it. I have officially gone mad,” he whispered to himself, “Hydra did it, they really ruined my brain. I mean, I can’t believe I’m even contemplating that this might be T’Challa.”

Now T’Challa’s tail wouldn’t stop flying through the air as the panther leaned in once again, rubbing his head against James’, and nuzzling in as he breathed in his partner’s scent. James had gone silent and still as he numbly reached up and petted the top of T’Challa’s head. The panther couldn’t help but purr in response. Eventually though, James pushed him away, a frown marring his face as he stared at the wild animal.

He dropped his gaze to his left wrist as he began rolling his Kimoyo Beads.

“I swear,” he muttered darkly, throwing a glare T’Challa’s way. “If this is another one of Shuri’s pranks – “

T’Challa moaned loudly as he shook his head. He looked as earnest as any wild cat could possibly look and James felt himself sighing as he activated the Communication Bead and sent an outgoing call.

Seconds later sand came swirling out as it shifted and changed right before their eyes, coming together to form the virtual image of Safiri.

 _“Barnes,”_ she greeted with a nod of her head and a slight arch of her eyebrow. _“What may I do for you?”_

“Hey,” James weakly greeted as he glanced from T’Challa then back to Safiri. He blew out a breath, his other hand reaching up to mess with his hair as he looked down at the floating image. “Quick question, have you seen the King today?”

Safiri’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him with a calculated expression. _“No,”_ she finally said, _“I have not. He is still in his suite. Why do you ask?”_

James put on his most charming smile as he shrugged easily, though T’Challa could note the strain flashing through his pale blue eyes.

“I just got back from patrol, didn’t wanna hike all the way to his rooms just to find that he’s off somewhere else. Thanks, Safiri.”

James cut off the transmission before the Dora Milaje could open her mouth to respond. The black sand disappeared back into his Kimoyo Beads. James breathed out heavily, his head hanging as he shook it, a leery expression clear across his face.

He looked at T’Challa before looking back down at his beads. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Going through his contacts he came to a stop at T’Challa’s name and pressed down, calling his partner’s own bracelet. T’Challa’s Communication Bead lit up almost immediately as the panther chirped happily. With a vindictive expression (or as vindictive as a panther could get, anyway), T’Challa held out his left paw as proof of his existence.

James’s face lost all trace of color and his eyes were blown wide as he starred at the Kimoyo Beads in shock. His mouth was slack as he looked from the bracelet to the self-satisfied panther sitting in front of him.

That meant…

“Oh shit!”

 

+++

 

“You cannot be serious!”

Shuri’s jubilant laughter echoed all throughout the empty lab. Her chuckles bounced all around the pristine space, splashes of brightly colored graffiti cutting through the stark whiteness. Shuri herself was a vision in white as she clutched her sides, braids flying everywhere as she laughed vociferously. Next to her, Okoye, who was famed for her impeccable poker face in any situation, was beginning to crack as amusement flashed through her dark eyes. Even Bucky felt his lips curling up into an easy grin as Shuri continued giggling.

He only stopped when he saw the sour look T’Challa was sending him from atop the examining table he was laying on. All around them screens were displaying data and vitals.  Bucky only held his hands up as his… _boyfriend_ continued glaring at him, tail twitching agitatedly.

“Don’t look at me,” he deflected as he pointed towards Shuri, who was now wiping tears from her eyes. “It’s not my fault her laugh’s contagious!”

Bucky didn’t know if it was possible for a panther to roll his eyes, but he was pretty sure T’Challa did as the cat turned his head away from his partner to glower at his younger sister instead.

“So, it is true.” Okoye interjected, her trademark aloof expression once again upon her face, even as her eyes twinkled merrily. “This creature…is the King.”

“Yep,” Shuri couldn’t help but singsong as she overlooked the flashing data. Bucky couldn’t make much sense of it, but that’s what they had Shuri for. The princess in question was still smiling as she looked at the feline.

“I don’t know how or why, but this is my brother.”

Silence reigned throughout the lab as all three occupants stared at the cat. In the distance, the faint sound of a maglev train could be heard speeding through the mountain mines, transporting vibranium.

“Panther help us,” Okoye muttered to herself as Bucky gulped audibly.

“I’m dating a cat,” he whispered with a twinge of hysteria laced through his words as he tried to make sense of all of this. “How is this my life?”

“Oh please,” Shuri remarked as she amicably slapped Bucky’s shoulder. “This is hardly the weirdest thing that has ever happened.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky sarcastically countered back as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What's weirder than the King of Wakanda turning into an actual cat?”

Shuri shrugged nonchalantly, entirely nonplussed by this turn of events. “I’m sure I can come up with something if you give me a minute. Besides,” she continued with a sly grin towards Bucky, “I know how much you love the sight of my brother in his suit, think of it like that, only kinkier.”

It was so silent one could hear a pin drop.

Bucky knew his face was as red as a tomato if the judgmental look Okoye was not so subtly sending him was anything to go by. Even T’Challa was looking at him with his wide green eyes, startled by the admission of Bucky’s secret admiration of his physique when wearing his suit. Really, how could he have not noticed? But then his expression morphed into that of a cat who positively got the cream as his tail gave a delighted twitch.

Bucky was sputtering as he whirled towards Shuri, pointing at her. “One, you’re sixteen. That’s too young for kinks, so stop that. And two, ewww.”

Shuri only cackled gleefully as she looked away.

“Children,” Okoye snapped as everyone turned towards the general. “Focus. How did the king come to be this way?”

The smile slipped off of Shuri’s face as she glanced down at her readings before shaking his head.

“I cannot say. None of this makes sense.”

She spun towards Bucky as she asked, “Has he come into contact with any foreign substances?”

It seemed fair to pose the question towards the super-soldier as he was the one who spent the most time with T’Challa in a typical day. He had also been the last one to see T’Challa in his normal, human body.

Bucky shrugged helplessly as he wracked his brain for any possible solution to their cat problem.

“A few weeks ago we assisted the Avengers against some mad scientist in the Middle East who was trying out a new type of chemical warfare.” he stated after several long moments, “T’Challa and Wilson were hit with something. But we had them checked out immediately after and couldn’t find any cause for concern. And last time I checked, Wilson hasn’t been turned into a bird.”

Bucky paused, looking thoughtfully into thin air as he thought about his favorite winged frenemy. “Hmm, though it wouldn’t bother me if he has.”

Shuri snorted as she elbowed Bucky in the side. Okoye was rolling her eyes and even T’Challa seemed unimpressed as he stretched out, legs curling beneath him on the table, his tail flicking back and forth lazily.

“I do not believe this is the cause of chemicals,” Shuri declared with a click of her tongue.

“It could be a test.” Okoye asserted succinctly. Bucky and Shuri’s head swiveled towards her in tandem and even T’Challa seemed interested as he watched his general closely.

“Test?” Bucky inquired with furrowed brows as he frowned, “What kind of test?”

Okoye tilted her head slowly, “One from Bast.”

Bucky was instantly skeptical. He wasn’t much of a religious guy and even trying to comprehend Wakanda’s hang-ups on panthers was enough to give him a headache. He respected Bast, but he sure as hell didn’t understand her. 

“Why would the Panther God turn her own living, breathing heir with all the powers and strength of a panther into a _literal_ panther?”

Okoye’s eyes glinted as she turned her head towards Bucky with a level gaze.

“Bast is beyond comprehension.” she explained slowly, as if speaking to a particularly dumb child. “She acts in ways unknown to us, as is her right. You would do well to remember that, White Wolf.”

Bucky held up his hands as he backed off.

“Whatever it may be,” Shuri interpolated matter-of-factly as she ready through her scans. “It will be staying this way for the foreseeable future, until I can either find a cure or the matter resolves itself naturally.”

She looked towards her brother and said with a cheeky grin, “For now, he remains an overgrown housecat.”

T’Challa stiffened as he hissed, baring his teeth in a way he must have thought was particularly menacing. Shuri only shook her head as she looked at Bucky with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes.

“You know,” she stage-whispered loud enough for T’Challa to hear, “I think I prefer him this way.”

The king only growled lowly as his tailed swished sullenly. He seemed entirely put out by the entire affair he was being subjected to.

“Well, what are we going to do?” Bucky asked the room with a sweep of his arms. “He can’t rule like this, or be Black Panther.”

“He will go on a trip,” Okoye answered pragmatically, already thinking two steps ahead. “Or at least, that is what the people will believe. We will say that he had urgent business abroad with the UN. That is believable enough these days with the opening of our borders.”

Shuri snapped her fingers in agreement, “I will go to my mother and explain how _delicate_ the circumstances are. She will step up as Regent until this is fixed.”

Bucky nodded along. That all made sense, except…

“What are we going to do with _him_?” he nodded towards T’Challa, who – having grown bored with the conversation – was lightly bathing himself. From the way Shuri was softly chortling, Bucky was pretty positive she was secretly filming this to use as revenge once T’Challa was human again. He did have to admit, the king was pretty adorable as a giant cat, even if T’Challa would bite his head off (literally) if he said so.

The two women exchanged devious glances as Okoye spoke, “The King is your concern, Barnes. I’m sure you are capable of watching after an animal, are you not?”

Bucky groaned. He really should have seen this coming.

“It’d be my pleasure,” he muttered underneath his breath. Okoye’s smirk only grew as she nodded and turned her attention to the elephant (or rather panther) in the room.

“Come, Your Highness.” she bowed her head to hide her shrewd smile. “It is time we return to the Palace.”

T’Challa only puffed out his chest as he jumped down from the table, landing neatly on the floor. He took off towards the spiraling ramp of the mining drill, paws padding silently over vibranium nannites as Okoye and Bucky trailed after him.

“Be sure to take pictures!” Shuri called out to their retreating forms, “I am never letting him live this down!”

If T’Challa nearly tripped over his own paw at his sister’s teasing, Bucky and Okoye were kind enough not to point it out. It seemed rude to kick a dog (err…cat) while he was down. After ascending the drill, they reached the brightly lit corridor that was flashing phrases and symbols of the ancient Wakandan language. Waiting for the trio was a contingent of the Dora Milaje, all standing at attention with straight backs and squared shoulders.

“Sisters,” Okoye greeted steadily as she banged her spear down on the glass flooring, its clang ringing all around. Fluidly the Dora Milaje moved as one as they flanked T’Challa’s sides, keeping close to their liege as he trotted ahead of them.

It was quite a sight seeing a panther being guarded by a small army of mighty warriors.

Bucky could only shake his head, a crooked smile appearing across his face as he followed the party towards the landing deck where the Royal Talon Fighter was at the ready. The group entered the regal ship, Okoye and Ayo bee-lining for the cockpit as the remaining Dora Milaje spread throughout the jet.

Moments later the ship was taking off, flying smoothly through the cloudless sky as Mount Bashenga and the magnificent, larger-than-life panther statue guarding it grew smaller and smaller behind them. Bucky sighed, dropping down onto one of the built in couches, bouncing lightly as he landed. Next to him T’Challa was stretched out, managing to look both adorable and noble. It was a staggering feat that only T’Challa was capable of achieving.

The panther’s ears twitched as he gazed at Bucky with those insightful eyes. His gaze just as riveting as it was when human. Bucky only breathed out deeply as he leaned back, allowing himself to relax for the first time since discovering T’Challa in the gardens.

“When you go big,” he murmured as he tiredly rubbed his eyes (man, a nap sounded heavenly just about now), “You really go _big_.”

He turned his head to look at his feline partner, “I mean really, T’Challa? A panther?”

T’Challa’s tail swung sharply, a silent warning to his human lover. Of course, Bucky was never one to let sleeping dogs (cats) lie.

“I guess the one good thing is,” Bucky drawled with a cocksure grin as he reached out to stroke T’Challa’s back. “You are pretty cute.”

Because he was expecting the bite, he was able to pull his hand back before T’Challa could catch it with his teeth. The cat hissed indignantly before promptly moving away, turning his back towards Bucky. Still, while he might have initially stiffened when Bucky continued brushing his fur, he didn’t reject the affection, but rather tucked his head down and closed his eyes. By the time they were landing at the Palace, he was softly purring to himself.

Through the use of the Dora Milaje, Bucky was able to smuggle T’Challa back to his quarters where the pair spent the remainder of the day, even having dinner brought to their rooms instead of eating with the Queen Mother as they typically did. Bucky felt a bit silly requesting a juicy raw steak, but it made T’Challa happy to rip into the bloody meat as he ate it, so Bucky suffered through it. True love and all.

As night began falling outside, Bucky found himself draped across their bed, listening to the faint noises of crickets, tree frogs and other wildlife roaming the gardens below. He turned his head, blinking sleepily towards the balcony.

T’Challa was sitting there, tail swishing back and forth slowly as he watched the treetops rustle in the refreshing evening breeze.

“’Challa,” Bucky called out, “C’mon, time for bed.”

He patted the space beside him invitingly but the panther studiously ignored him. Bucky exhaled deeply as he stared at the dark silhouette before shaking his head dismissively.

“Pout all you want,” he called out to the cat, “Doesn’t change the fact that for the time being you’re a panther and even panthers need a good night’s sleep.” 

T’Challa didn’t even have the kindness to glance back at his partner, just remained in his spot, stubbornly staring ahead. Bucky threw up his hands in surrender.

“Fine,” he called out to the balcony. “I’ll just sleep in the huge, luxurious bed by myself. Even though I hate sleeping alone. But whatever.”

With a clap of his hands all the lights in the spacious bedchambers were turned off. Bucky rolled viciously onto his side, reaching out and grabbing T’Challa’s pillow. He punched it a few times, making it pliable before wrapping his arms around it as he buried his nose in the calming scent.

If T’Challa was going to be so damned headstrong, well then Bucky would be as well.

It’s not like he was thrilled by this new development either. But T’Challa’s _cattiness_ wasn’t a deterrent to Bucky. Really, if he was being honest, T’Challa had seen him in far worse situations than being transformed into a feline and still loved him for it. Bucky could gladly do the same for him.

But T’Challa…he could be even more stubborn than Steve sometimes. And right now Bucky wasn’t in the mood to try and combat that minefield. So, he stewed in bed, tossing and turning because he couldn’t find the right position for a perfect night’s rest.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, it felt like hours, and he was still no closer to falling asleep when he felt a weight at the end of the mattress. He remained deceptively still as a dark shadow cautiously slunk up the bed, peering at him through the twilight. Bucky remained silent even as T’Challa slowly leaned in, sniffing Bucky’s hair before lightly nudging Bucky’s head with his nose. A silent apology for his distance. It wasn’t unlike how T’Challa typically apologized to Bucky after a rare spat; coming up to his side after the two had time apart to work through their thoughts, pressing up against him as he reached for Bucky’s vibranium hand, intertwining their fingers together.

The super-soldier glanced up, seeing two flashing eyes peering at him solemnly. Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he reached out, rubbing his hand against T’Challa’s whiskers.

“Come to cuddle, kitty cat?” he sluggishly asked and only moments later one of T’Challa’s massive paws came out of the dark, batting playfully at his face, pushing Bucky back a few spaces. The man couldn’t help but chuckle deeply as T’Challa lowered himself to the mattress, stretching out along Bucky’s side, long limbs sprawling everywhere. Bucky huddled closer, burying his nose into T’Challa’s glossy fur.

“You never know,” he whispered softly, knowing his partner could hear him. “We might wake up tomorrow with you back to normal and we’ll have a good, long laugh about it.”

T’Challa didn’t respond but as Bucky continued stroking his back he heard the distinct rumbles of purring as T’Challa breathed out deeply.

 

+++

 

When Bucky woke up the next morning he wasn’t rewarded with laughter because T’Challa was still a panther.

He remained a panther every day for the next week.

It seemed that would be a common occurrence because Shuri was no closer to finding a cure and Bast wasn’t sending down any hints from the heavens. So, for now, they were stuck as they were.

Bucky had to admit, it was an interesting experience cohabitating with a seemingly wild animal. Sometimes T’Challa seemed very much like a human trapped in a cat’s body with the way he observed the world around him and could visibly understand when he was being spoken to and responding the only ways he know how. Other times he very much was an instinctual feline, stalking and hunting prey, like the unlucky birds in the gardens.

Bucky had sneakily captured several photos of that amusing spectacle, which he had passed along to Shuri. He’d deal with the fallout of that whenever T’Challa was back to his kingly self.

There were some learning curves, of course. Such as when the palace kitchens had been preparing essentially a feast of fine, tender meats and T’Challa – having sniffed their hearty aromas even from the bedroom – had nearly broke through the door in his quest to devour them. It had taken Bucky and three of the Dora Milaje to wrangle the panther-king back into their quarters.

One problem they had encountered was that T’Challa, much like he was as a human, had a tendency to go stir crazy when cooped up for far too long. Like any cat, he wanted the freedom to roam and stretch his legs. One day he wouldn’t stop crying about accompanying Bucky to the open markets of Birnin Zana when the super-soldier had some errands to run.

It hadn’t gone particularly well.

_“For the last time, sweetheart. You can’t come with me.”_

_T’Challa let out a displeased growl as he sat back on his haunches, tail flicking back and forth in frustration. Honestly, no animal or person had ever looked so cute while being so royally pissed off. The panther raised his head, letting out a long whine._

_Bucky rolled his eyes as he nodded his head, knowing where T’Challa was going with this. And really, what did it say about him that he could understand a panther? “Yes, I understand that panthers are a common occurrence in the Golden City and that they’re revered as sacred animals. But, come on, when’s the last time you saw one strolling through the main streets, hmm?”_

_T’Challa remained mulishly silent as his looked away, unwilling to concede defeat gracefully._

_“Yeah,” Bucky said as he placed his hands on his hips, “That’s what I thought.”_

T’Challa had stalked off and hours later wouldn’t even accept Bucky’s apology steak. He had conceded to cuddling in bed though, so Bucky didn’t think it was a total wash.

So, yeah, it was a weird time for the couple with ups and downs and just odd moments in between.

Much as he adored T’Challa in any form, he’d really like his human boyfriend back sooner than later.

The afternoon found the pair in the Royal Gardens, lazily willing the day away. T’Challa had scaled a tree and was situated high above Bucky on a tree branch, tail swishing idly as he watched the world below him. Bucky was situated at the base of the mighty tree, back pressed against the bark as he read _The Count of Monte Cristo._ He had been a voracious reader in his youth, pouring through book after book. Steve had his drawings and Bucky his books.

Sadly for him, between the War and the decades as Hydra’s fist, he hadn’t had time to sit down with a good book. Ever since coming to Wakanda he had been steadily making his way through all the classics he had previously missed out on. Shuri always joked about how much of a ‘crusty old grandpa’ he was by insisting that he needed a hard copy of a novel, rather than using his Kimoyo Beads or a tablet. He liked the weight of holding it in his hands, the way the pages crinkled when you turned them and how rich and deep they smelled, the scent always momentarily transporting him back to the rink-a-dink apartment he had shared with Steve in Brooklyn.

Bucky had just gotten to the section of the novel when its protagonist, Edmond Dantés, made the acquaintance of the wise Abbé Faria when Bucky’s Communication Bead lit up with an incoming call. With a sigh he set aside the book as he activated the bead and watched in puzzlement as Wakili – Bucky’s second in command within the Hatut Zeraze – appeared. Bucky felt himself tensing as he saw the grim expression on his comrade’s face.

“What?” he asked and with a glance up he could see that the call even had T’Challa’s attention as the cat peered down as the floating picture.

 _“Outsiders are making trouble at the northern borders.”_ Wakili somberly intoned in his deep voice. _“We think they mean to illegally trespass.”_

Bucky swore under his breath, eyes darting up towards T’Challa. It had been the king’s prevailing fear that even with all the good that would occur with Wakanda’s open borders, incidents such as this were consequences of it as well. He looked back to his friend, his blue eyes steely.

“Are the Dogs ready?”

Wakili gave a single nod. _“Suited and geared up. We’re just waiting for you.”_

Bucky was on his feet, long strides taking him towards the Palace. He didn’t even notice T’Challa springing down from the tree as he bounded after him.

“I’m on my way.”

_“Understood. A Dragon Flyer is enroute towards your location. It will carry you to our coordinates.”_

With a snap of his head, Wakili’s image disappeared, just leaving Bucky hurrying to prepare for a good ol’ fashioned fight. He was walking so fast he didn’t even notice when T’Challa darted out in front of him, blocking his progress.

“Hey!” Bucky skidded to a stop, “T’Challa, I don’t have time for this. I have to go.”

T’Challa gave a bellowing cry, pawing at Bucky’s legs. The soldier was quick to shake his head. “You can’t come with me.”

T’Challa snarled, obstinately shaking his head as he gazed up at his partner. Bucky could understand where T’Challa was coming from. It was his sworn duty as both king and warrior to protect his people. He knew that T’Challa’s decision to open the borders, while the right thing to do, was still something that weighed heavily on his mind due to the dangers it could incur.

Dangers such as trespassers who were most likely seeking vibranium.

With a deep breath, Bucky kneeled down, forcing T’Challa to look him in the eye as he tenderly explained. “I know you want to help, but what I need is the Black Panther and right now you’re just… _a_ black panther.” 

T’Challa huffed a breath, looking personally affronted at Bucky’s words. But he remained sitting there, some of his manic energy disappearing as he gazed at Bucky. The soldier reached out, petting the panther’s head.

“I’ll protect your people, I promise.” Bucky solemnly vowed because it was the least of things he owed not only to T’Challa, but also the nation that had taken him in and given him a home. He wasn’t entirely surprised when T’Challa chirped once, leaning in to knock his head against Bucky’s.

 _Our people,_ T’Challa’s eyes said as the panther raised his head. A grin broke across Bucky’s face as he ruffled T’Challa’s fur and placed a quick kiss to the panther’s nose, smiling when the nostrils twitched.

“I gotta go.” Bucky stood and pointed firmly at the cat, “Stay.”

He warily watched his partner for a moment, but when the feline remained seated, he felt confident enough to turn away to gather his supplies.

All the while T’Challa watched him go.

 

+++

 

“Some people just never learn, huh?”

Bucky ducked down in just enough time to avoid a bazooka strike. He didn’t even flinch as dirt and debris blew up behind him. This little skirmish had been going on long enough and he was ready for it to end.

“Some people are too stupid to.” Wakili chimed in from next to him, with a spear in hand. Bucky watched in awe as the large man lined up a perfect shot, arched back his arm and propelled the speak forward. It went flying through the air before landing perfectly in the tire of one of the trespasser’s jeeps. Moments later the jeep exploded into a fiery flame.

Bucky surveyed the scene and saw a moment of opportunity. Reaching up to activate his comm, he spoke to all of the warriors gathered with him.

“Alright, War Dogs, ready to have some fun?”

The resounding war cry that echoed throughout the open field was answer enough for Bucky. With a hand signal he and the Hatut Zeraze charged forward, ready to meet these outsiders hand to hand. All the War Dogs expertly wove through the gunfire being lobbed down upon them as it deflected off their armor. Bucky kept his left arm poised in front of him as bullets ricocheted off it, flying this way and that. The arm whirled as he brought it up for a fierce punch that sent one unfortunate mercenary flying back 10 feet or more.

With a click of his hand, a shimmering blue, vibranium force field formed to life in front of his left hand, a virtual shield. And because Shuri had the worst sense of humor it was round in shape, not unlike Steve’s famous shield.

Bucky dove headfirst into the fight, punching and blocking his way forward in equal measure as man after man fell before him. The tide of the fight was clearly in the Wakandans favor when Bucky had his back turned, not seeing the threat creeping towards him.

“White Wolf!” Wakili yelled and Bucky turned his head, but before he could raise an arm to defend himself, a ferocious roar ripped through the forest. Bucky could only watch in awestruck shock as a flashing black image darted out from the trees, teeth snarling as he lunged forward, mouth wrapping around the outstretched arm that had a gun aimed at Bucky’s head.

The poor soul screamed as he was tackled to the ground, the panther ripping into his skin savagely. Bucky’s eyes were still blown wide as he stared at the gruesome scene. When the man was completely incapacitated, the wild animal backed off, eyes gleaming as he turned towards Bucky, assessing for himself that the super-soldier was unharmed.

Bucky could only shake his head in disbelief.

“I told you to stay!” he yelled, well, more like screeched, across the battlefield. The panther only shrugged lightly. Bucky threw up his hands, honestly, what had he done to deserve this?

“Fine,” he pointed towards the panther, “But we’re talking about this when we get home.”

T’Challa did a weird thing with his mouth that Bucky guessed was the panther version of a smile before he vaulted back into the foray, a fierce roar ripping from his throat. His partner only shook his head as he reached for his vibranium dagger and followed after his feline.

Soon enough the fight was over with most of the assailants fleeing over the border, with the rest being rounded up and arrested by the War Dogs. Bucky was no worse for the wear, just sweaty and hot, as he cracked his neck, groaning in audible relief as the joints popped. He didn’t even startle when a warm presence rubbed against his legs, he only reached down and patted T’Challa’s back.

“Uh, Barnes?” a confused voice asked from behind as Bucky swiveled around to see his men eyeing the cat with wary eyes. “Why do you have a panther with you? And why did it join us in battle?”

Good questions. Very good questions.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he glanced down at the panther-king. From the way the green eyes were pragmatically staring back, Bucky knew he was very much on his own when it came to selling this odd story.

Bucky looked at his fellow warriors and brothers-in-arms as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, brain racking for any plausible excuse for their new mascot.

“Well…” he slowly began, “It’s uh…its Princess Shuri’s idea!”

When in doubt, blame things on the princess. It was usually her fault, after all. T’Challa huffed out an amused breath from beside him as he watched Bucky.

“Yeah,” Bucky quickly continued as he gained momentum. “This is a new prototype she is testing out, combat ready panthers.”

Skeptical silence followed that statement as the Hatut Zeraze shared looks among one another.

“Combat ready panthers?” Wakili slowly asked, not quite knowing if Bucky was trying to pull a fast one over him. If only he knew.

“Yep,” Bucky’s head bobbed up and down, “She’s noticed how invaluable the rhinoceroses are for the Border Tribe and so is seeing if she can replicate the same results with panthers. This is our guinea pig.”

Bucky gestured to T’Challa, who growled lowly at being called such a thing. Bucky rolled his eyes, he didn’t have time for T’Challa’s _sensitivity_. He was trying to get them out of the hole that T’Challa put them in.

The group of warriors stared down at the panther who met all of their gazes evenly, tail swishing back and forth calmly. Even as an animal, T’Challa still had the bearings of a king.

“What’s his name?” Wakili asked, surprising Bucky, whose brain was already stressed out beyond belief trying to sell this little white lie.

“Err…” He peered down at the cat, “Tom.”

His eyes slipped shut at how stupid that sounded. Tom? _Tom?_ No wonder Steve, dumb as he was, had always been the Commandos’ leader. Bucky was much better suited at being a sniper that dealing with this kind of shit.

“Tom?” Wakili incredulously asked, the name as foreign to him as most Wakandan names had been to Bucky when he had first arrived here. T’Challa looked equally unimpressed as he looked up at his human lover.

Well, he had started this lie, he might as well take it home and commit to it.

“Yeah, well, back when I was in Brooklyn I had an alley cat. Stubborn little thing, black as night. His name was Tom. So, when Princess Shuri put me in charge of this _little guy_ ,” he ignored T’Challa’s insulted hissing and bared teeth, “I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Ah,” Wakili murmured with a nod of his head, expression still hesitant. “Well, pass my regards to the Princess. While unorthodox, the animal proved himself an asset to us and we are grateful.”

Wakili respectfully bowed his head towards the animal, the rest of the War Dogs following suit, as T’Challa preened under the attention. Bucky kept his face neutral, because really, how was this his life?

“Clean up done?” he briskly asked his second in command as Wakili nodded.

“Yes, we also have several prisoners.” he gestured to the group of bruised and battered mercenaries, all bound together with vibranium handcuffs.

“Good." he said with a snap of his head, "Transport them to the Golden City where they will await the King’s justice.”

With that Bucky turned on his heel, stalking towards his Dragon Flyer as T’Challa idly followed him, tail swinging happily. It was silent between the unlikely pair as they boarded the ship, Bucky all but throwing himself into the round pilot’s seat as he activated the console. Sand erupted up into controls as Bucky held both hands aloft floating orbs that served as the ship’s control system.

With a familiar flourish of his hands the ship was rising off the ground and taking off through the sky. Bucky flew silently for several minutes before breathing in deeply and initiating autopilot. He turned the chair towards T’Challa, who was resting on the floor, lightly licking his dirty paw.

“How’d you even get here?” Bucky questioned, still not quite believing that his panther boyfriend had followed him into battle. T’Challa glanced up before looking towards the ship’s storage unit located in the back.

“Of course,” Bucky huffed, blowing stray strands of hair out of his eyes.

“And what happened to staying at the Palace like I _asked_ you to?”

T’Challa didn’t even the decency to look properly chagrined as he continued bathing himself, not even glancing towards his partner. Bucky threw up his heads as he leaned back into a seat, a pout settling over his lips.

“Unbelievable,” he mutinously muttered, “I’m being ignored by a housecat.”

He only rolled his eyes when T’Challa snarled at him. He turned away, opting to watch the view as the ship took them back to the Palace. The second they were on the ground the super-soldier was stalking towards their bedroom, not even caring that T’Challa was padding after him silently.

As soon as he was in their suite, he finally took a good long look at the feline, noting the sweat, grime and blood (thankfully not his) coating the black fur. With a sigh, Bucky wandered into the bathroom and towards the massive bathtub that could fit at least four grown men. More than enough room for a panther with authority issues.

Bucky began running the bath as warm water trickled into the basin. He glanced towards the doorway where T’Challa was watching him, trepidation clear in his green eyes.

“What?” Bucky joked as the felt the temperature of the water, “I thought panthers loved water.”

T’Challa whined lowly, backing away, but Bucky wouldn’t let him get too far. He pounced towards the cat, scooping him up.

 _“Oof!”_ Bucky swore as his arms were suddenly filled with the black, squirming mass of crying panther. He may have enhanced strength, but that didn’t mean T’Challa wasn’t heavy for a cat. Bucky struggled getting them towards the bathtub as T’Challa cried pitifully, his bellyaches echoing all around.

Honestly, it’s not like he was killing him. He was just giving him a bath!

“T’Challa! Stop squirming!” he told his partner as he hot them near the bathtub. Of course, T’Challa being T’Challa, he wriggled even harder, causing Bucky to trip and send both careening into the warm water.

Bucky surfaced sputtering, clothes completely drenched as he sat up. Pushing his wet hair out of his eyes he glanced over the side of the tub and saw that about half the tub’s content of water was now all over the tiled floors.

Bucky’s gaze turned towards the guilty party who was nestled across from his, green eyes staring at him innocently as water droplets fell from his whiskers.

 _“You,”_ Bucky got out through clenched teeth, “Are the worst pet ever.”

T’Challa only leaned in and licked Bucky’s cheek, the rough tongue scrapping over Bucky’s five o’clock shadow. The soldier only shook his head, pushing the cat back as he reached for T’Challa’s favorite shampoo, lathering it up in his hands.

“Come on, kitty cat, time to get clean.”

The rest of the bath passed with little fanfare as T’Challa allowed himself to be scrubbed down. By the time he was exiting the basin his fur was as smooth and glossy as ever. He shook himself down, sending water droplets everywhere without care. Bucky pulled himself out of the tub, weighed down by his soaked clothes. He sauntered into the bedroom, stripping down as he went.

Finally, when he was as naked as the day he was born, he ventured towards the walk in closet to pick something to wear. As he strolled by, he couldn’t help but notice the way T’Challa was eyeing the long lines of his body, his tail flicking appreciatively.

“Stop ogling me as a panther, it’s weird.” Bucky called over his shoulder as he entered the closet. “And I’m not into bestiality.”

He only laughed when he heard T’Challa's disgusted meow. Moments later Bucky was walking out, only in a pair of black boxer briefs. Outside night was falling and after the day Bucky had, the only thing he wanted was a soft spot to sleep on for the next eight hours.

He fell headfirst onto the massive bed, weakly crawling up as he buried his face in his pillow, spreading out on his stomach. He didn’t even move when T’Challa jumped up beside him.

He did, however, wheeze when all 250 pounds of panther settled on top of him, pressing him into the yielding mattress.

“Babe,” Bucky murmured sleepily, “Get off. You’re too heavy.”

He didn’t even wince when T’Challa nipped playfully at his bare shoulder. The super-soldier just shook his head, resigning himself to being his boyfriend’s body pillow for the night. He only sighed deeply, mouth quirking up as T’Challa ran his tongue over the bite before nuzzling into his neck, leaving warm, panting breaths there.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered with closed eyes, “I love you too.”

Between one breath and the next he fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. It wasn’t until hours later that he was suddenly awoken. He didn’t know why though. There was no cause for concern. He still felt the weight on T’Challa on his backside, but something was different.

Instead of soft fur he felt…skin on skin.

With a slight turn on his head he glanced over his shoulder and found his very _human_ lover stretched out across Bucky, stark naked and asleep. He beamed at the blessed sight of T’Challa’s face, slack with sleep, and oh so beautiful.

In a flash, Bucky rolled them over so they were on their sides. His arms instantly wound around the king as he tangled their legs together. They were pressed together from head to toe. Bucky embraced him tightly, hand reaching up to cup the back of T’Challa’s head as he tenderly placed a kiss on his forehead. The man only snuffled lightly but remained sleeping. Bucky smiled as he settled in, happier than ever to have this man with him.

“Welcome back, kitty cat.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Back at the oneshot game! I'm still working on my Five Kisses story, so feel free to check that out. 
> 
> Bucky's vibranium shield is based off the same tech that the Border Tribe used in BP with their cloaks acting as force fields during the battle. Also I gave him a shield as a nod to his time as Bucky Cap in the comics. One thing I also love writing is the Bucky/Shuri friendship. My own personal head-canon is that Shuri goes out of her way to show Bucky that she sees him as a person, not a weapon. She's not afraid of him. So I always have her physically touching him and teasing, such as the elbowing and the playful slaps. It's always light and joking between the two. 
> 
> Thank you for all the love you guys have shown this series! For such a little ship it has such dedicated followers! I'd love to hear your guys' feedback for this story


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